


Under a Praxian Sky

by Elysandra



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: Episode: s03e11 Pax Romana, F/F, Missing Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-12-20
Updated: 2011-12-20
Packaged: 2017-10-27 15:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/297210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elysandra/pseuds/Elysandra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I'd hoped we'd gained each other's trust."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under a Praxian Sky

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kathryne](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathryne/gifts).



> Written for kathryne as part of the Sanctuary Santa Exchange 2011.
> 
> Many thanks to my awesome beta!

The night after their rescue mission, Helen finds herself in Ranna’s private quarters. Freshly showered, she’s been served a rich meal that tasted indefinitely better than the fungus and the proteins they were told to drink after their resurrection.

She’s parted ways with the rest of her team, after ensuring they have appropriate quarters assigned to let them get some much needed sleep. Ranna seems to have little need for sleep, much like herself, and invites Helen back to her quarters. Keeping their distance from each other doesn’t seem as important now, after they bonded over saving Kanaan. The intensity between them turns into verbal sparring and they openly flirt as they discuss how to form a productive exchange between Praxis and the Sanctuary Network in the future.

Ranna warns her repeatedly that any further contact depends on the Senate’s approval. A meeting is scheduled for the next morning, but Ranna doesn’t seem all that optimistic about the outcome. Helen tries to convince Ranna to allow her to accompany her to the meeting, but Praxian law is quite clear on their position concerning 'surface-dwellers'.

Ranna, on the other hand, seems to have mellowed significantly and Helen has high hopes of persuading her to pursue a more… private contact in the future.

Helen turns away from the window and the sight of that strangely modern and yet old-fashioned architecture, and sinks down into the plush pillows they’ve settled on after their meal. Her eyes are drawn back to the ochre darkness outside as she relaxes under the high windows. She hasn’t been here for more than a day, but she misses the sky already; white and grey clouds, the warmth of the sun, the beauty of the moon and stars. To think that the people of Hollow Earth haven’t the slightest idea of the beauty above their heads, it makes her feel strangely melancholic.

“You could come up and visit us, up on the surface,” she says as Ranna returns.

She watches Ranna cross the room, her bare feet gliding across the wooden floor, her movement graceful and sure. She’s as unapologetic in private as she is as the Praxian leader and Helen finds herself inexplicably attracted by her self-confidence.

“I’d like to,” Ranna says, coming to stand next to her guest. “The surface really is beautiful.”

The two tumblers she’s brought clink together as she puts them down on the low table, the sound resonating through the air like a bell. Helen watches as Ranna fills them with an amber liquid. _Maybe it’s not amber at all_ , she thinks, _maybe it’s that yellow tinge that imbues everything here. It makes it so hard to see things for what they really are._

She takes in Ranna’s commanding presence and thinks about how arrogant she’s appeared at first, how cold and distant. The way she demanded an explanation for Gregory’s betrayal, answers to all the questions Helen herself couldn’t answer; those emotions didn’t fit the image of the cold and distant executioner. It was the first time she felt as if she’d caught a glimpse at the woman behind the position of Praxian leader.

 _She cares about him_ , Helen thinks, just as she’d thought back then, facing possible death, again. It’d made it easier to trust her, even before she learned, or rather deduced, about Kanaan. Helen can only guess how it feels to lose contact with a being one has shared a connection with for centuries, but she’d seen the distraught expression in Ranna’s eyes and heard her subdued voice when it became apparent that the Praxian leader had been unable to come up with a solution.

Ranna is strong and independent, and obviously there aren’t many people she can turn to, if at all. Helen thinks that maybe her father has been her confidant, which would explain a lot.

Her musings are interrupted when Ranna hands her one of the glasses and sits down next to her. Ranna’s eyes glaze over Helen, studying her, and Helen wonders what she sees. She’s not used to being the younger one; though age difference certainly becomes relative, once one has lived a certain number of years. She doesn’t really mind, anyway, because it’s also kind of refreshing.

“I’d like to see your face in the light of the sun,” Ranna says after a moment. “This light doesn’t do your eyes justice.”

She’s trying to suppress a grin. _Probably at how clichéd that sounds_ , Helen thinks and she can’t help but match the expression.

“Not the way the crackling blue light of raw energy does, I bet.”

She’s unwilling to let the jibe pass, but keeps her voice teasing. Ranna appears unrepentant, anyway.

“Though I’d do it again if necessary, I’d prefer not to repeat that scenario. Any visit shall have to wait till the council has decided on a further course of action. Which will be soon, hopefully.”

She raises her glass and Helen mirrors the gesture.

“Well then, to a flourishing and fruitful relationship between Hollow Earth’s inhabitants and us ‘surface dwellers’,” Helen proposes.

“And to a... fruitful night,” Ranna adds, smiling into her glass as she sips the liquid, her eyes not leaving Helen’s for a moment.

Helen studies her face in the twilight, relishing the daring look she finds there. She keeps the sip of liquor in her mouth for a moment, savors its richness, her taste buds exploding with the bittersweet taste of fruits and herbs and something that reminds her of cinnamon. Not her usual choice, but appealing in its own way. Just like the woman next to her.

“Not bad,” she says, not talking about the drink as she takes another sip.

She has a high tolerance for alcohol but the liquor is potent enough to remind her body of the heat they encountered down in the cave. _It’s a different heat, but it has the same potential for danger_ , she thinks.

Ranna regards her thoughtfully and Helen can’t help but wonder exactly where the danger is lurking. The expression in Ranna’s eyes is certainly a laden promise and only adds to the heat coursing through her body. Helen places her glass on the table. It seems unwise to play with more than one kind of heat right now, the tingle coursing through her already making her thoughts hazy.

“I’ve yet to properly thank you for your help,” Ranna says and rises from where she’s sitting to mirror Helen’s action. The liquid sloshes as glass meets wood and Helen thinks she likes the way it sparkles in the yellow light.

When a hand brushes her thigh, she looks up to find Ranna kneeling next to her, her face bathed in the same yellow hue, so similar in color to the liquor she’d just been studying. Ranna is watching her, her knuckles brushing against the back of Helen’s hand; her tongue darts out to lick her lips and Helen can’t wait to taste that bittersweet flavor again.

She turns her hand and closes her fingers around Ranna’s wrist, delighting in the rapid fluttering she feels under her thumb.

“Quite. We wouldn’t want to risk diplomatic relations just because I feel unappreciated,” she says, eyes straying back to those inviting lips as they morph into a smirk.

“My thoughts exactly,” Ranna says and leans closer. “I’m so glad we understand each other.”

Their lips meet and it’s even better than Helen has expected, the bittersweet taste filling her senses is even more intoxicating than before. Then there’s the cinnamon and the heat. Oh, the heat; delicious and stimulating, it has her lusting for more.

Ranna’s hand comes up to tangle in her hair and Helen’s own clings to the fabric of Ranna’s robe as she leans further into her, pressing their now entwined hands into Helen’s thigh.

She’s breathing hard when they part and she loves the way Ranna’s lips are still open, slightly swollen and so very inviting, a testament to her own rapid breaths. Helen allows herself to be pulled to her feet, allows Ranna to brush the soft fabric of her own dark brown robe off her shoulders, leaving her in loose-fitting trousers and a shirt. She feels herself being pulled by the collar into a fierce kiss, as Ranna urges her backwards.

They kiss again while Ranna urges her backwards, but Helen isn’t one to stay passive for long. The result has them meandering across the room, frantically stumbling and turning around themselves as each tries to direct their path, Ranna intent on reaching the far corner and Helen just as intent to press her against the next flat surface.

She has to concede defeat when her back crushes against a door, but entering another room means the probability of a bed in close vicinity, so she calls it a win. At least she’s managed to shed Ranna’s own robe on the way, and is now one step ahead with both her hands underneath Ranna’s open shirt and on her almost naked torso. She uses Ranna’s distraction to unhook the last piece of cloth covering her chest and lets it fall to the floor while Ranna fumbles to open the door without letting go of Helen’s lips. One hand buried in her hair and the other wrapped around her middle, Ranna holds her close as she gropes for the doorknob.

When she manages the impossible, the two of them stumble into the room behind Helen, threatening to land in an undignified heap on the floor. It’s a close call when Ranna manages to steady them right before the fall.

For a moment they simply stand and stare at each other, both wide-eyed, their breathing loud in the otherwise quiet room. Then wrinkles appear at the corners of Ranna’s eyes as her lips twitch. It’s a hesitant smile at first, but it grows and a charming dimple appears. A low chuckle follows and then Helen finds herself confronted with a carefree, joyful laughter that, somehow, hits her completely unprepared and leaves her captivated.

It’s quite infectious and Helen can’t help but join in a moment later. It has never felt so good to feel the tension disappear, the pain, the fear. The room is filled with their laughter, free and light, giddy with relief. For once, Helen lets go of all the questions about Adam, about John, about the future. Allows herself to revel in the fact that here they are, two strong women, centuries old, both seasoned leaders in their own right, stumbling around in heated passion.

It’s hilarious.

When their laughter dies down to the occasional giggle, Helen rests her forehead against Ranna’s shoulder and takes a deep breath.

“I assume you do not have surveillance cameras in your rooms?” she asks with an amused smile.

“You would assume correctly.”

Ranna’s answer is just as amused as she untangles her hand from Helen’s hair to brush her knuckles across her flushed cheek.

“I prefer my private affairs to stay private.”

Helen’s grin widens as she leans into the caress.

“Oh. I see,” she teases. “You do this often?”

Ranna’s eyes darken and Helen’s stomach flutters in response.

“Oh no,” she says, her tone husky. “Not nearly enough. But I’d like to think I have a good idea or two for some more shenanigans.”

She keeps her eyes, gleaming with promise, on Helen as she picks up a curly strand of hair to twist around her finger.

“Is that so?” Helen replies in a whisper.

She bends her head to nuzzle Ranna’s neck, then her lips trail lower and she places a row of kisses along Ranna’s collar bone before they latch onto the dent in its middle, intent on leaving a mark. Ranna’s hands move up over her hips and she shivers when they slip under her shirt. Running her own hands under Ranna’s shirt, Helen pushes it down over her shoulders and hums in satisfaction when the cloth slips to the floor. She brings her hands back around to cover the breasts now bared to her eyes, caressing and learning their shape before her lips close around one of the beautiful dark nipples. She hums as she feels it tighten against her tongue and sucks and nips until Ranna moans.

When she attempts to switch sides, Ranna’s hands cup her face and bring her up for another heated kiss.

“You’re good,” Ranna says with a predatory gaze that makes Helen shiver.

“And you have me at a disadvantage.”

She trails the still buttoned up front of Helen’s shirt with her finger. Helen grins.

“Not as much as you think.”

She takes Ranna’s hand and places it on her breast, eyes twinkling. Ranna laughs.

“Helen Magnus! I’m certain we provided you with sufficient clothing.”

Gripping the lapels, she gives a sharp tug. Helen huffs a laugh as Ranna manages to open the shirt without sending any of the buttons flying.

“I thought there was a good chance you would only take it off again, anyway. Why bother?”

She leans in for another kiss as she shrugs her shoulders to get rid of the offending garment.

“And look how right you were.”

Ranna holds her hips as she urges her backwards once more, stopping only when the edge of her bed brushes the back of Helen’s knees. Her eyes twinkle merrily as her fingers roam across Helen’s stomach and dip into her navel, before they idly play with the fastening of her trousers.

“So, if I take these off...”

She keeps her eyes fixed on Helen’s and even though it’s her decision, Helen finds her cheeks growing warmer under Ranna’s knowing gaze.

Ranna smirks and slowly pulls at the strings, leaning closer as the trousers begin to slide down over Helen’s hips. Her breath washes over Helen’s neck and her lips brush against her ear.

“You’re a naughty one, aren’t you?”

Helen moans and shifts restlessly and that’s all it takes for the cloth to pool at her feet. Ranna takes it as an invitation to start exploring, and it doesn’t take long before Helen finds herself stretched out on the bed.

“I don’t hear you complaining,” she says when she finally remembers to answer, the sentence ending in a moan as sharp teeth sink into her shoulder.

“I like my women naughty.”

Helen has no trouble believing her, seeing as there’s no other word but ‘naughty’ for the way Ranna’s fingers are playing with her right now.

“That has to go,” she manages to say ahead of the moan that’s threatening to spill from her lips once more.

She blindly attempts to push the final pieces of clothes still covering Ranna over the other woman’s hips, desperate to feel more skin against her own. The fact that Ranna is completely fixated on her own explorations isn’t helping at all and it takes Helen a frustratingly long time until she finally manages to push the clothes over Ranna’s ankles, using her toes to kick them off the bed.

With a content sigh, she wraps her legs around Ranna’s thighs and her arms around her back, reveling in the heated skin that covers her body as she pulls her closer. Ranna comes up for a kiss and buries her nose in Helen’s hair, as her hands continue their exploration. She’s moving languidly, allowing herself to just enjoy the moment.

Helen decides she’s not above using that to her advantage.

One swift motion and she has Ranna on her back, surprise evident in her eyes. She wriggles against Helen’s hold on her shoulders, forcing Helen to shift more weight onto her arms and lean down to nip on Ranna’s bottom lip.

“Hold still.”

It’s a warning and Ranna heeds it, looking up at her with a challenging look even as she stills.

“So,” Helen drawls, satisfied with her compliance. “You think I am your woman?”

Ranna laughs, causing Helen to grin, but before she can say anything Ranna reaches out and pulls her down into a bruising kiss, retaliating with her own bite when Helen doesn’t instantly open her lips.

Unsure how it happens, Helen finds herself one moment on top, the next back under Ranna, her wrists held above her head while she’s being kissed senseless.

She cannot help but moan at the loss when Ranna finally pulls back and automatically tries to follow, but it’s a feeble attempt and they both realize it. She tugs at the hold on her wrists and Ranna pulls herself up until she’s kneeling between Helen’s legs, smiling down at her.

“Right now? Yes you are.”

Her tone is confident and Helen whimpers, somewhat embarrassed when her body arches involuntarily and earns her a chuckle.

“Bend your knee,” Ranna orders and Helen considers another attempt at taking control but then there’s a sharp tug on her nipple and the warning pressure of teeth and she realizes that Ranna has no qualms using her own methods against her.

She bends her knee as told and braces her foot against the mattress.

“Good.”

The praise has her struggling once more, trying to free her wrists, but Ranna is not about to let her go. Instead Helen hears herself moan into the next kiss when Ranna straddles her thigh and leans forward until her breasts brush against Helen’s. Their bodies rub against each other with every rhythmic movement she makes as she grinds against Helen, her lips and tongue ravishing Helen’s mouth and muffling their moans.

It’s demanding and depraved and Helen revels in the gushing wetness that’s covering her thigh. She lifts her hips to counter Ranna’s movement and feels a slender hand at her entrance a moment later. Before she can react, the fingers have already slipped inside her, pumping in time with Ranna’s hips moving against her, and all she can do is mewl high-pitched and just let go as white hot pleasure washes over her.

~~~

When Helen wakes, it’s to find Ranna smiling at her. Fingers draw soothing lines on her forehead, the fingertips barely brushing her skin, as Ranna lies next to her, watching her.

She smiles and stretches languidly.

“How long did I sleep?” she asks, looking around but unable to find a clock.

“A few hours. We’ve about three left before I’ve got to meet with the Senate,” Ranna says.

Helen grimaces apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep on you.”

Ranna shakes her head, smiling.

“No need to apologize. You’ve just travelled down to Hollow Earth, been killed, resurrected, cured of radiation poisoning and healed a lava-dwelling abnormal during an on-spot-surgery. I think that warrants a little sleep, don’t you?”

Helen can’t help but laugh at that.

“If you phrase it like that, I guess I had reason to be a little tired.”

She sighs contentedly when the fingers leave her forehead and travel down leisurely, brushing over her neck, across her bare shoulder, her arm... When Ranna slips her hand under the light blanket that’s covering them, Helen feels the heat reignite. She smiles and lifts her own hand to brush her knuckles lightly across one of Ranna’s puckered nipples. She hasn’t spent nearly enough time exploring that delectable body, she decides. She wants to taste and feel it; she wants to feast on Ranna and she wants it now.

Helen shifts closer, pressing herself against Ranna until their bodies turn as one and Ranna is underneath her, warm and extremely inviting. She moves her legs between Ranna’s and nudges until she’s spread her legs to accommodate Helen. Taking hold of the hand that is currently exploring her backside, she mirrors Ranna’s earlier strategy and holds her wrists above her head, her hands brushing against the headboard.

“Though I’m feeling quite rewarded right now,” she says with a smirk, “there is still the matter of condemning us without so much as asking for our names.”

She can feel Ranna’s body tensing and moves to kiss her nose, her upper lip, her chin. Ranna relaxes.

“Is that so?”

Helen presses herself further into Ranna, enjoying her breasts brushing against her own with every breath they take. She makes it her aim to quicken Ranna’s pulse and lowers her voice into a husky drawl.

“Yes. Someone will have to pay for that, satisfy my... need for... retribution.”

She smirks in victory when she feels Ranna shiver and take a shuddering breath before she answers.

“I see.”

She wraps her legs around Helen’s and presses up against her, their hipbones rubbing against each other in an intimate caress that makes them both moan. Helen nips at her jaw in retaliation and Ranna sighs in agreement.

“And who do you propose should be that ‘someone’ whose going to p-pay?”

Helen is exploring Ranna’s neck while she speaks and grins at her stumble. _Sweet spot_ , she thinks and commits it to memory. She leaves her lips right there, breathing the answer against Ranna’s skin.

“Since you’re the only representative of the Praxian government present right now...”

Ranna chuckles breathlessly at Helen’s words, the laugh vibrating through them both. Helen pulls back and studies her face intently, doubtful of Ranna’s continued compliancy. Ranna looks back steadily, an indulgent smile playing around her lips.

“Convenient. And how do you propose I pay?”

Helen decides to up the ante.

“Oh, I don’t know. Do you have any handcuffs lying around here, by any chance?”

Ranna’s eyes darken and Helen has to tighten her grip on her wrists as Ranna shifts, suddenly restless. Helen leans down and claims Ranna’s lips when she nods and answers: “Yes.”

“Fetch them,” she says, her voice a purr, and slides down and off Ranna.

Ranna rolls over onto her stomach and reaches under the bed, a gleaming pair of silver handcuffs dangling from her finger a moment later.

“Remember, three hours. And I want to shower before the meeting,” she says before she hands Helen the cuffs and resumes her earlier position. Helen smirks.

“Don’t worry. I’ll make the most of the time.”

~~~

She departs from Praxis with her team a few hours later, leaving Ranna and her father behind, not knowing when she’ll see them again. It’s only a matter of time, she tells herself resolutely as she tightens the straps on her backpack, but the tension is back. Countless questions lurk just out of side; she is Helen Magnus and it’s a luxury to just let go, even for a few hours.

 


End file.
